₦airaland Forum

Both are correct:

Seeing a movie implies going to the cinema to watch a particular movie.

You can watch a movie at the comfort of your room, where you don't have to go out.

I hope this helps.

But the two thousand words maximum is too small. Why not four thousand or five?

“I’ll like to ask you a very important question, and I’ll like you to reply me with the utmost honesty.” Said Lot. Matters of emotion were not the detective’s forte. His feelings on emotional entanglement could objectively be labelled ‘appalling’.

Instead of replying, Ruth was busy mopping off tears from her face, as well as making careful effort not to mess up her make-up. When she was done, she switched to her former cold self. She regarded the two men with eyes reserved for the lowlest of creatures. She held her face high and proud.

“How much do you know about your father?” Lot asked.

“He wasn’t a saint—of that I’m sure.”

“Do you know why anybody would want him killed?”

“That’s your job to find out.”

“Mrs. Brown,” Lot said, “Who is Abel?”

Her facial expression was instantly knocked out of true by a seismic displacement of horror and astonishment. Her complexion turned aphid. Blue veins became visible under her fair skin and a nervous tic pulled at her right fore-finger. Her eyes betrayed the coldness and unleashed the countenance of astounded impact.

“Do you know any Abel, Mrs. Brown?” Lot asked again, studying her curiously.

“Who—who told you about Abel?”

“We know everything, Mrs. Brown.”

Her eyebrows were raised—she looked scared at this moment.

“You are Abel’s sister, aren’t you?”

She stood up instantly and backed away from the men, “No! No!! how could you possibly know that? No one is expected to know.” She was on the verge of hysteria.

Lot replied calmly, “Your mother told us everything.”

This revelation shocked her; the impact it created on her was almost epileptic. Her whole body shook, and she looked as if she was going to faint.

“My mother?” she asked incredulously.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brown,” Lot said, “Your mother already told us about what happened to you when you were seventeen. She told s about the man who broke into your home and forced you to copulate with your younger brother, Abel. I’m sure you remember. Things like that are never forgotten, and as awkward as it seems, I sympathise with you.”

Ruth stared at the two men for a long time, gave a very audible sigh and returned to her seat.

“How dare her?” she said, her eyes flashing fury, ‘How could she tell you such? That was something I’ve kept locked up in my mind for twenty years—why did my mother bring back such sorrowful memory?” she was screaming angrily now, “What right—what effrontery has she to say something so outrageous?”

“She told us because she had no choice,” Lot explained, “And you’d have done likewise if you were in her shoes.”

She looked askance at the detective, “What do you mean by that, detective?”

“We have reasons to believe that the second corpse we found last week was Abel—your long-lost brother.”

“What! Did I just hear you right?”

‘Yes, you did.”

Ruth shook her head from left to right and back, ‘You can’t be more wrong.”

“I think the correct grammatical form is ‘wronger’.”

“You must be mistaken. My brother has been missing for over twenty years. You cannot come here now and tell me that the corpse of one vagrant you encountered last week was my brother. Give me something else. What other ridiculous image have you conjured in your out-of-orbit imagination?”

“You saw that corpse last week, didn’t you?”

“I did. And if you intend to ask me if I recognized it as Abel, you can save your breath; he’s not.”

“I very much doubt that you’d recognize easily someone you’ve not seen in two decades, considering the fact that our recent popular subject was heavily bearded.”

She stared at Lot, stunned, “What exactly did my mother tell you both?”

“She told us enough to believe that the man who broke into your house didn’t visit you to preach about Jesus Christ. Can you recall the name of that man, Mrs. Brown?”

“I cannot really remember—it’s a biblical name, I think Adam or Judas, either of the two.”

“Your mother said his name was Cain.”

“Oh yes, she’s right. The man joked that God brought him to destroy Abel, something like that—like Cain did to his brother in the Good Book. I can remember now, his full name was Cain Martins. He had the kind of face that could scare the bejesus out of a coven of voodoo witches and wizards.”

“Mrs. Brown, did you know about your brother’s accident when he was six?”

“Abel never had any accident, except when he fell off the branch of a tree when he was plucking mangoes. His thigh was stitched.”

Lot frowned.

‘Mrs. Brown, did the copul*tion of that day result in pregnancy?”

Ruth sprang up suddenly, as though she realized that she had been perching on the point of a nail, she wouldn’t have reacted worse if she was slapped on the face. “How dare you ask me such an asinine question?”

“Please answer the question.” Lot replied calmly.

“What are you trying to insinuate now? That Remi, my daughter, is the result of what happened between my brother and I?”

“I must confess, the thought did cross our minds.”

“ ‘Our’—plural personal pronoun.” Ruth looked from Lot to the quiet Daniel Famous. She eyed the young man malevolently.

Daniel, seeing the trouble the detective had dragged him in, quickly attempted to defend himself—but under the lady’s glare, he was finding it hard to find his own tongue. He looked down helplessly and feeling remarkably foolish. Whatever the reason might be, Daniel knew he was on Ruth’s list now, and he knew the woman well enough to suspect that Ruth made her list with a pencil that had no eraser.

Ruth shook her head and turned back to the detective, “I refuse to lay answer to such a ridiculous question. You may drag me from here to the Queen’s court, my lips shall remain sealed. Besides, did you ask my mother the same senseless question?”

Lot swallowed the bitter insult and replied, “No, we didn’t. She wasn’t the one who got laid that day, you were.”

She seemed not to notice the sarcasm because she replied, “So, she didn’t tell you?”

“Tell us what?”

“It was horrible, seeing the n*kedness of your family member and watching the intercourse.”

Lot nodded, “I understand how hard it must have been for her, watching her children sleep with each—”

“You’re still not getting it, are you?” Ruth interrupted sharply, her voice thicker and louder, “After forcing my parents to watch the intercourse between my brother and I, the stranger forced my mother to get in her birthday suit. The monster raped her right there in our presence. Right there! But anyway, you both can go and play with yourselves!”

Flakeey: what more can i say? for now i'm speechless
cos i don't want to start cracking my head
*Ariel?*

I know you like him; let's see what happens to him.

seunviju: Wow,this is lovely but some things are getting me confused,well let me keep my finger crossed.Keep up the good work sir,lovely story u've got

Thanks Seun, we're getting closer to the denouement. Stay in touch.

zyzxx: ah pls don't let kanu be too bloody because am already feeling sorry for the guy

Welldone

The guy was frustrated; he became something else.

deebarbie: I have loved reading story books nd graduated to novel since I was the age of 8. When I grew up to be age 16,I chose d kind of novel I like reading. Ranges from crime to thriller and to vampires. I hate anything called romance novel even to movies. I started reading this novel 2days ago but I didn't quite understand hw it all started til I saw d link to brand of cain. Sometimes I wonder how God just bless people with brain. Sir I give you three heartily cheers and gbosa. This is so similar to John grisham and Sidney Sheldon novels. I am more than impressed. May God continue to give u knowledge and wisdom. Please I don't mind if I can get d complete story from brand of Cain just to keep on my PC where I kept best novels ever read. Even If I will have to pay for it to have it. Let me know please. Thumbs up for you. You are really good at what u do.

Oh, thanks a lot, ma"am. I'll let you know as soon as I convert my works to e-book formats. Thanks again, ma'am.

God bless you.

Adinije: @Larry, abeg no kill people that matter o! Especially tha Ariel guy. Cos e be like say I dey ehmm ehm... U know na.

Ehmm ehm what? Oh, I understand!

TWENTY

Ruth Brown walked into the room at almost half an hour after Daniel had requested her presence in the room set for interrogations, but because of the loathe she still nursed at the footballer, she snapped at Daniel, telling him to go and visit the devil. This discourtesy had subjected the poor Daniel to slunk back to his master, instantly cowered. Lot was about storming down to compel her over when the lady stepped into the room with graceful steps and proud dispositions. She carried her shapely body with dignity found only in ladies who knew the powers inherent in their seductive charms.

She stood by the table for a moment staring at the detective, perhaps expecting the gumshoe to offer her a seat. But when Lot didn’t seem to care about her stationary position, she grabbed a chair and sat down, facing the detective.

Lot pretended to be busy while the woman sat down waiting. He continued shuffling papers and reading their contents with ease and calmness. He was intentionally trying the lady’s patience as much as he could. He wanted to see her angry before beginning his interrogations. He had learnt that Ruth Brown was a lady whose patience always hanged by a spider’s silk. When he looked in her face, it was boiling with irritation. He smiled to himself—he had seen what he needed. The anger the lady wore on her face was more noticeable than the make-up. Apart from that, Lot noticed that instead of a watch, the lady was wearing a pink band on her wrist.

From the numerous cases Lot had investigated in the past, he knew that anger could be a blindfold—it was capable of rendering a person blind to logic. Anger could force a person to utter words he’d secretly sworn never to use.

Detective Lot therefore strongly hoped that Ruth would reveal information she might have planned to keep to herself; information that could help his cause in unraveling the knitted box of conundrum placed in this household by the hand of a monster.

‘If you don’t already know, my name is Detective Lot—”

“Really? Your mother named you Detective?”

Lot drew a sigh at that. “Mrs. Brown, Daniel and I shall be throwing a number of questions at you—”

“Knock yourselves out to hell,” she interrupted grimly again, “Words can’t describe how little I give a damn.”

Lot pause, glared at the woman, shrugged and continued, “Profanity is a brutal vice, she that uses it is not a lady. I expect that you’ll be entirely and more politely forthcoming in your replies.”

“If I wish.” came the grim reply again.

“Mrs. Brown, I should let you know that withholding information is a grave offence. If you were planning to be a frustration to this investigation, I’d advise you to have a rethink.”

She didn’t reply to that. Her phone rang and she picked it up, snapping at the caller. Whoever had been on the other end of the line got a good ear cleaning.

“What can you tell us about yourself, Ruth?” Lot asked.

“I see no reason why I should engage in an autobiographical recital just because you demanded of it. And I’d prefer you addressed me as Mrs. Brown. Besides, what right do you and your mental permutation of a sidekick have in calling me here to question me?”

Lot ignored the insult and said, “I understand that you’ve been married three times.”

“The last time I checked, that wasn’t against the law, and neither was it any of your business.”

“Why did you leave your first husband,” he consulted the list with him, “Mr. Tunde Johnson?”

“He wasn’t man enough for me, I suppose. He wasn’t clever. All my men have to be smart, strong too—I don’t mean physically strong alone, but strong enough to challenge my intellectual taste. Otherwise I get bored. Tuned is also a complete klutz when it comes to fashion; he wears clothes even the Salvation Army would reject. He’s not bad-looking but he dresses like a zombie. He’s the lowlest face on the dumbest totem. I must have been dumber to have married him. He doesn’t happen to be sartorially consistent. Did I ever tell you he saves his teabags? Uses them two or three times before he throws them away. Isn’t that ludicrous?” she paused and added, “I’m old enough that there is no Prince Charming, just a bunch of more or less flawed men. Sometimes they wear shiny armour but it is always rusty on closer look. I knew all I needed to know about all men. The strong could be devils, but the weak are moral cowards. So, I’d rather lie down with lions than wake up beside dogs with fleas.”

“I expected you would say that. And your second husband—what led to your break-up?”

“I plead the Fifth Amendment about that.”

“What’s his name?”

“That isn’t important, he’s dead.”

Daniel gulped. Something about the woman had always scared him since the moment he set his eyes upon her. She carried too cold a countenance; if she spent too long in a bath-tub the water might freeze. And a part of him told him that Remi also carried a streak of her coldness. He was uneasy.


“I believe your third husband is Mr. Brown.” Lot said.

“What if he is?”

“For how long were you married to him?”

“Thirty-six months. The first time I saw him I thought I was going to turn into a pillar of salt. He was so fantastic looking. I didn’t marry him because of his looks alone. I married him because he was one of the best men in the world. He was smart, he was kind, and he was very good in bed. There might still be men I would sexually desire, even admire, come to like, and even want to marry. But I will never again put myself at the mercy of any man.”

“Did you love him?”

She glared at Lot, “Love? What is love?”

“You don’t know what it means to fall in love?”

“I felt something sweet very deep in me when I was with him, maybe that was what some silly ladies call—love. Poets write about love, and singers sing about it, but it is a myth. Who needs love before copulation? I’ve rode a legion of men with whom I had no slightest liking. A few of them are two lawyers, several doctors, a president of an international foundation, three managers of leading banks, a stockbroker or two, and a renowned psychiatric whom both of you should make an appointment to see.”

Lot was controlling the urge to that this rude woman by the neck and strangle her, “You didn’t divorce Mr. Brown, did you?”

“I didn’t.”

“But what I gathered was that you are no more with him.”

“Tony Brown is a typical SOB.”

“Did you just say Tony Brown?” Daniel chipped in, bearing an astounded look.

“Are telling me your ear-drum is faulty?” Ruth fired back.

“The Tony Brown I know is one of the most powerful men of this country, and he just celebrated his tenth wedding anniversary. The lady he celebrated that anniversary with wasn’t you. It’s either you’re lying or—”

“Will you shut that gob of yours?” Thundered Ruth, “You button up your mouth when two elders talk.”

Daniel instantly forgot to complete the statement.

“If you’re talking about the same Tony Brown we all know, Mrs., then you should be well ashamed of yourself for your false connubial decree.” Lot said.

Ruth glared at the two men, venom shone in her eyes as she rummaged through her arm-bag and came up with a dog-eared photograph which she placed angrily on the table.

“Now, look at those, you twin-apes, and tell me once again that I’m lying. I’ll be delighted to see you two make freaking idiots out of yourselves, if you’re not already idiots initially.”

Lot looked at Ruth skeptically, shook his head and reached for the photograph. He studied it for a few seconds before passing it across to the curious Daniel. On the photograph were the pictures of three people: Ruth, Tony, and an infant in the middle of the couple.”

Lot half-suspected that the lady’s arrogance resulted mainly because she had not been with her paramour for several days, and she was a youth with roving fancy.

“Is that your child? The one in the middle sitting on your thighs?"

Ruth took a moment before replying, “Yes, that’s my second child,” she smiled proudly, her smile wasn’t very reassuring, ‘She was growing up fast, she’d be four years old in a few months if—” she stopped herself here, but it was too late.

“If what?” Lot asked, fully interested.

Tears rushed to Ruth’s eyes, she said between sobs, “Her name is Gloria.”

“What happened to her?” Lot knew that she’d answer any question now. What was initially hard in the woman had now been softened. There was now about her a curious, quiet dignity.

“She was kidnapped.” Ruth replied.

“Kidnapped? How?”

“One Monday morning of January last year, I received a call that Gloria could not be found. It was the headmistress of Gloria’s school who called. I thought it was a joke but when Gloria’s whereabouts could really not be ascertained, I got devastated.” She stopped and wept some more. Lot waited for her to continue, “It was on the third day, when I had believed that my daughter had met with an accident and died, that the kidnappers called. I don’t know how they managed to get my phone number. They demanded for a ransom of twenty million naira to be delivered to a certain location at a given date. Gloria’s disappearance devastated Tony as much as it did me. He provided the money and placed where he was instructed—in a trash can. He came home and we expected the kidnappers to call us and provide the location of where we could find our daughter. The kidnappers never called after the payment. Now I don’t know what has become of my daughter.” She wept some more.

Lot stared at her, “I understand you have a lot of faults, but I don’t think self-pity is one of them. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Believe me, a lot of women have suffered worse tragedies in their lives.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Brown,” Daniel said, with a little manifestation of sympathy. “I pray you re-unite with your daughter.”

Harrychocoberry: Larry!
I'm Seeing You,continue doing one of the things You know how to do best.

#Massive#

b/w..please do not forget Kalu the Rogue's article.

~Chocoberry~

Okay, I'll definitely continue the journal; it's quite bloody.

Thanks for following.

“I’m having a strange feeling, Famous.”

“What kind of feeling is that, sir? Are you in love too?”

“What is Love? I’m having a feeling of déjà vu. I’ve begun having it since I spoke with the family members.”

“Déjà vu?”

“Yes, I think I’ve seen one of the family members somewhere before.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t even remember where.”

“I’ll remind you, you saw everybody on the way to the cemetery, maybe that is what is giving you the feeling of recognition; seeing the family members out of the compound for the first time.”

“Your lights are on, Daniel, but nobody is at home. You think I don’t remember that? You’re getting slack, Famous, instead of getting better, you’re getting a bloody sight worse. Do you know that? I’ve been racking my head to remember that person I’ve seen but I’ve not been able to. It’s breaking me apart. If I can’t recall the person before the end of this investigation, I will better quit the detective business and take to truck-driving or house painting.”

“Can you kindly forget about that and let’s concentrate on the cards? I strongly believe that we’d crack the case as soon as we knew what the cards contain.”

“How many cards did you find with the body?”

“Five—4 of ball, 2 of cross, 1 of star, 5 of carpet and 3 of triangle.” He showed Lot the picture he took of the cards. “Do you know what they mean?”

Lot stared at the picture on the phone for a few seconds and returned the mobile phone to its owner. “Did you notice that the cards give the numbers 1 to 5?”

Daniel stared at the picture and saw it, “Truly, I did not notice. 1 of star, 2 of cross, 3 of triangle, 4 of ball and 5 of carpet. Wow! We’re getting somewhere. What do they mean?”

“Before we understand the numbers, we have to first understand the symbols.”

“Do you know what the symbols mean?”

“Of course, I do—I’m not as dumb as you.”

“Okay, what is the significance of Ball?”

“It means pit, dungeon, ditch or hell—whichever way you may see it.”

“What about the number 4 on it? Why did the person choose that particular number for the symbol? There are other numbers for the symbol. Why that particular number?”

Lot was silent a moment, his face cast downward. When he looked up, his face was grave. He looked so woebegone that Famous was afraid he might start weeping, and he didn’t know how he’d handle it if the detective suddenly burst into tears.

“This is very bad, Famous, very bad.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We have to act fast. People’s lives are in danger.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Two people have already been killed the criminal still have two more people to kill. We must allow that, Famous.”

“Are you saying the number 4 means the demise of four people?”

Lot nodded, “Two of them have been killed, unfortunately. One was killed before my arrival and another after my arrival. That’s bad, something like that shouldn’t happen under my watch.”

“What makes you think the number signifies the death of four people?”

“There is something else the symbol means; it means Death.”

“Goodness!” ejaculated Daniel, “We’re dealing with a psycho.”

“This particular psycho is clever, Famous. He’s too clever, but his cleverness may be his weakness.”

Daniel consulted the picture again and asked, “What about Cross? What does it signify?”

“Religion.”

“Religion?”

“Yes, cross signifies Religion. I’m sure it’s the one with the number 2.”

"It is. What does it mean?”

“It simply means that there are two religions; the Islamic and the Christian.”

“I’m still not getting it. What does religion have to do with the case we are investigating?”

“It may have everything to do with it. The religions come from the source.”

“The source?”

“Yes, the source. Jamal Malik was a Muslim and his wife a Christian. The early cross has been the most common symbol of the four elements—Earth, Air, Fire and Water. In Islam, they are known as Squares, Clouds, Lightning and Waves. Everything might have sprouted from the difference in religion, or a clash in beliefs.”

“The criminal is one sick person,” commented Daniel, “What about the Star? I think I know what that one signifies.”

“What?”

“The Star signifies one of the planetary bodies.”

Lot glared at him and said, “You should be cleaning latrines. The Star signifies fame.”

“Oh, I forgot. The Star means popularity. It is how we refer to celebrities; those ones who are always surrounded by a gaggle of fans, all thrusting pens and scraps of paper at them, clamouring for their autographs and taking pictures with them. The famous ones in turn sign dozens of autographs and later making sensational departures by jumping in their waiting limousines.”

‘Now who is a celebrity among the family members?”

“None, I believe. You’re the only celebrity in this compound,” he stopped and stared at the picture, “The murderer could be referring to you, the number is carries is 1.”

“A detective is never a celebrity in Nigeria. Celebrities are always actors and actresses, musicians or footballers. Aren’t you a footballer?”

Daniel laughed, “Oh no, you’re getting it wrong. The murderer can never be referring to me. I’m not a celebrity in the least; only few people know that I play football. A celebrity is someone who has fans, I don’t have any fan yet.”

Lot smiled, “Thank you, Famous.”

Daniel stared, “For what?”

“For telling me whom the murderer was referring. It’s not either of us.”

“Who is?”

“Gabriel.”

“Gabriel? Gabriel Malik? I didn’t know he was a celebrity.”

“Being a celebrity is not only restricted to the aforementioned people; there are other celebrities. Chinua Achebe is a celebrity, isn’t he?”

“Likewise Soyinka, Dangote and Baba Fash.”

“Gabriel Malik is a writer writing under the pseudonym Ariel. I’ve visited his blog and read his books. Although not yet published, Ariel is quite popular online. He has lots of followers and he’s regarded a celebrity. The murderer is talking about Ariel.”

“Why him? Out of all the children of Jamal.”

“Because he may actually be the madman we’re hunting.”

Daniel shook his head, “Gabriel doesn’t look mad to me.”

“Your idea of a madman is someone drooling at the mouth and wearing rags? You’re wrong, this madman we’re hunting looking as sane as you and I. I told you the criminal is too clever, that his cleverness may be his weakness. He might have given himself off with these clues, believing I might not be able not break them.”

“So, what are you going to do now? Arrest the writer?”

“Goodness no!” said Lot, “My words are only conjectures for now. He may be innocent in these murders. What is the next card?”

“That’s 5 of Carpet.”

“It’s called Square.”

“What does it signify?”

“Square signifies equality.”

‘Equality indeed.”

“It means everything in life is equal in the sight of creation—” Lot stopped himself and said, “Famous, take your mind back to the morning of Jamal’s murder. When you took me to the sitting room to introduce me to the family members, there was something on the table. Do you know what it was?”

“I think it was a book, but I’m not sure. You can’t blame me, it’s been over a week.”

“You’re right, it was a book. Do you remember what book it was?”

“No, I don’t. I can’t remember.”

“It was Animal Farm!”

Daniel frowned, “Animal Farm?”

“Haven’t you read the book before?”

“Of course, I have.”

“What is its catchphrase?”

“All animals are equal.”

“There goes the equality I was explaining. I took the liberty to open that book. Page 15 was folded.”

“Page 15?”

"That was the page in that particular edition where the Commandments were given. ‘All animals are equal’ is the seventh commandment ‘But some animals are more equal than others’—this phrase is used by one of the pigs described in the book.”

“Then the person who owns that book may be the murderer we’re looking for.”

“It’s a possibility but not a certainty. The murderer could be the reader and not the owner.”

“So, we have to know who owns the book and who was reading it that day.”

“The last symbol is Triangle, right?”

Daniel nodded, ‘It is.”

“Triangle symbolises secret.” Explained Lot.

“What is secretive about triangles?”

"The shape is used by most secret organisations because it implies trinity. It is generally believed that the triangle carries spiritual imageries. I know of one particular secret society called The Three Angels, the words “Angels’ is only scrambled from 'Angles’; the triangle is the only shape with three angles. The green shape in the middle of the one thousand naira note is a triangle, there’s a secret behind its appearance on the money. Look at the pyramids of Egypt—there a secret backing up their existence. But that is not our concern now. What is the number on it? 3?”

Daniel nodded again, “You’re right, sir.”

“The 3 only signifies the number of angles in the triangle.”

“It could also mean, perhaps, the number of secrets connected with this case.”

Lot smiled, “The pap in your head is finally getting thicker, we should pop champagne. You’re absolutely right. The murderer is letting us know that there are three secrets we ought to find out.”

“How many have we been able to discover?”

“In my opinion, none. Maybe one, if you’re considering what Hannah told us about Abel and Ruth. Let’s question another family member now. If we’re lucky, we may find out another secret the family is hiding.”

“Who should I call in?”

“The next person on the list is the foul-mouthed Ruth Brown.”

When Daniel left, Lot lit a cigarette, and with the first healing puffs of smoke, he settled himself benignly against the chair. He knew Ruth would be a tough suspect to interrogate.

AudreyTimms: LarrySun, yet you say you aren't a professional editor!

Lol! I'm just having a nice time.

Flakeey: Remi, a product of i.n.c.e.s.t?
it better not be true...damn it!

this suspense is too much to handle o..the more you read, the more confused you get

oga Larry, weldone o, yu hear?

Lol! I hear. Thanks ma'am.

D9ty7: PROLOGUE
TIME: 11:45AM
VENUE: CHIEF OBI PATRICK'S MANSION.

A yellow volkswagen drove into the compound at a very top speed of what could be described as fast and furious kind of speed. The gateman picked race (took to his heels/made a fast getaway) and ran into his gatepost for safety. A youngman (young man *notice the space*) in his late twenties came out dressed in a white t-shirt and black jean trouser and a black vickers shoe with a Rayban sunshade (dressed in a white T-shirt, a pair of black jeans trousers, a pair of black Vickers shoes, and covering his eyes was another pair of sunshades).

FULL NAME: KELVIN PATRICK
AGE: 28
GENDER: MALE
HEIGHT: 6FT 5
OCCUPATION: HIRED ASSASIN/TERRORIST
HOBBIES: PLAYING GOLF & KILLING
FAVOURITE WEAPON: CZ-97B; 45ACP
MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE.


TIME: 12PM
VENUE: A CRIME SCENE AT ALLEN AVENUE.

A tall handsome youngman was talking to a younglady in a police uniform. They seem (seemed) to be in a crime scene, a blue mercedez benz was parked at the side of the road and the windscreen has (had) been shattered as a result of a gunshot at it. The occupant of the car gave up the ghost few minutes ago (earlier) when the policemen arrived with the medical team. (You should describe the victim in detail. Who was he? A young man or an old one? Was he behind the wheel or at the back seat? Was he driving when he was killed or the vehicle was already at rest? Where was he shot? Head or anus? Describe the weather too.)

"Clara, get me my phone." he said to the lady.

"Yes sir." The lady replied as she handed a mobile phone to her (I'm sure you meant 'him').

The man took the phone and left the scene to a more secluded area.

"Inspector Clement (kindly insert a comma here) sir." the man said.

"Hello Clement. What have you got on the murder?" The reciever (recipient) asked.

"Its a blue mercedez benz (It's a blue Mercedez Benz) belonging to one Mr Kingsley. As far as I can tell you, the man is dead and every possible measure has be taken to nab the perpetrator." Clement explained.

"Get you report forwarded to area F-command for review after which you start (This is quite confusing; do you mean 'as soon as you commence/end the investigation'?) the investigation." The man at the other end said.

"Yes sir."

"Feed me more after the review."

And the line went dead.

FULL NAME: CLEMENT PATRICK
AGE: 30
GENDER: MALE
OCCUPATION: POLICEMAN
HEIGHT: 6FT
HOBBIES: READING & MEETING PEOPLE.
MARITAL STATUS: MARRIED.


TIME: 12:50PM
VENUE: LOVERS MIX GUEST HOUSE

Sitting in a big spacious room was a group of people numbering up to eight (eight people) including their leader who had her back turned to the others.

"Vicky (insert a comma here) seriously we (we seriously) need to carry out our plans and killings as from now without leaving trace or lead." A huge black complexioned (dark-complexioned) dude said.

A (use the definite article 'The') lady who turned her back to the others sitting down in the private room turned to face them.

"Its (It's) not about killing without trace, its about killing everybody involved (insert a semicolon here) and mind you, no one recieves (receives) any call except on my order. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am." They all chorused.

FULL NAME: VICTORIA VICKY
AGE: 25
GENDER: FEMALE
HEIGHT: 5ft 5inches
OCCUPATION: HIRED ASSASIN
HOBBIES: SEX & DANCING
FAVOURITE WEAPON: BARETTA (I think it should be 'Beretta') CHEETAH; 32ACP
MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE.
-----
FULL NAME: OSELU SANDRA
AGE: 26
GENDER: FEMALE
OCCUPATION: MODELLING
HOBBIES: TAKING PICTURES & MEETING PEOPLE
MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE.
----
FULL NAME: ABDUL MALEEK
AGE: 39
GENDER: MALE
OCCUPATION: TERRORIST
HOBBIES: NIL
MARITAL STATUS: WIDOWER.
----
FULL NAME: JANET
AGE: 21
GENDER: FEMALE
OCCUPATION: HOUSEMAID
HOBBIES: BLACKMAILING
MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE.
----
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced either in part of (or) in whole in electronic or photocopy medium without the prior written approval from the author.

You can contact the author instantly via +2348166920449 or durodola9ty7@gmail.com or @I_am_d9ty7 on twitter.

Rough Review.

pricelesslove: Good morning Larry, sorry i cant check my mail now.

Oops! Good morning, ma'am.

Seun, what should we do about this plagiarism issue? It's really getting out of hand.

rapmike: * in Gai's voice* naaaaaani!


Men, this is great. Larry nice work!

Thanks a lot, bro.

Flakeey: *Sobs*
i feel so bad for Hannah, Abel and Ruth
Jamal brought this upon himself and family, once you do evil, not only u will suffer it, the children will also suffer (Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit but generations feel the tooth enamel), nemesis really caught up with him.
no wonder Ruth turned out to be the way she is

(the unforgiving Cain revenged in a very barbaric way, I remember how he killed the nurse who mistakenly made him sterile )


nice update sir..waiting for more

The two evil men (Jamal and Cain) destroyed each other's families. So sad.

pweeeetychi: Mr, i don't understand anything o, i just said that. The only picture i can get clear now is that we might have 2 abels in this story........ 1 abel was cain's son and 2nd abel that's Jamal's son.
I guess i'm right...
And another thing, who was the caller that summoned the whole family together for the celebration??
But who could have killed Jamal........

Still very confused

The truth shall soon surface.

NINETEEN

“What!” Daniel exploded, only after the lady had departed. “Don’t tell me Mrs. Malik was referring to the same notorious Cain Martins of whom you and I were familiar.” His insides screamed No! in a hundred different languages.

“I’m afraid it’s the same Cain.” Lot replied solemnly, thinking deeply.

“How is that possible?” demanded Daniel rhetorically, “I can’t believe we’re investigating a murder case involving the man who nearly killed—”

“Please stop, Famous,” Lot cut him off, “Let’s concentrate on the case.”

“This is utterly unbelievable, detective. It’s unbelievable!”

“Nothing is ever as it seems, Famous. I learnt that the hard way a long time ago.” He shifted in his seat. “What do you think about the woman’s explanation?”

“You can see the tears on my face. Her story is so pathetic. I wonder how you always remain dry-eyed after hearing stories of this nature. Don’t you feel any emotion?”

Lot ignored his question and asked, “Aren’t you seeing something worse in her narratives?”

Daniel frowned, “Something worse? What are you talking about?”

Lot said, “How old is Remi?”

“She shouldn’t e more than—” Daniel stopped himself abruptly here, his eyelids were stretched and his mouth was agape with an astonished O. the significance of the detective’s question now registered in his mind, "You mean—you mean—Remi could be—” he could not complete the statement.

Lot completed it for him, “Yes, Remi might be Abel’s daughter. Look at it this way; what if Abel wasn’t sent off only because he slept with his older sister? What if he was sent off because his sister became pregnant for him?”

Daniel suddenly stood up and backed away from the table, as if the furniture had suddenly turned into a serpent. ‘No—no! It can’t be! It mustn’t be!”

"If Remi is twenty years old, it could be.” Lot said.

“I’m in love with her!” Daniel screamed out. “Please, it mustn’t be—Remi mustn’t suffer such a cruel fate! She’s too innocent for this.”

“Is she really innocent?” Lot asked sharply, “No one is innocent until the criminal has been caught. Come back to your seat, Famous, there is no cause for alarm yet. We still need to ascertain if the corpse we found is really Abel Malik.”

“Mrs. Malik said Abel was having a scar on is left thigh. Shouldn’t you call the morgue to confirm?”

“I wanted to go to the morgue and confirm with my eyes, but I can just call the doctor there to check the corpse.” Lot took his phone and dialed Doctor Bantu’s number, “Hello—doctor? Yes, it’s the detective. Okay, thanks for the compliment. Before I sign your autograph, I want to confirm if you know the phone number of any of the doctors presiding over the morgue where we deposited that second body. Yes, okay. Please call one of them and ask him to check the corpse for any visible scar on the left thigh. Okay, thanks. Please call me back as soon as you get the facts. Thanks, doctor.” He ended the call.

“What did he say?”

‘He’ll call me back. There is another angle we need to check concerning that corpse. You remember what happened before I sent you forth to Sawmill Lane?”

"Nothing happened. Except that we managed to decipher the content of the note, but we were too late still. If we had broken the numbers sooner, that man might probably still e breathing now.”

“Look here,” bellowed lot. He struck the top of the table with such a sharp blow with his fists that the sheets of paper fluttered off. "Believe anything, but never believe that the man died because we didn’t decipher the note on time—the man was long dead before you arrived at the scene.”

Daniel looked at Lot askance, “When you said ‘long dead’, what time exactly did you mean?”

“He was dead about two or three hours before you arrived there. That’s what the doctor said.”

“Have you forgotten that you spoke with him on phone? That was less than an hour before I reached Sawmill Lane.”

“The only explanation to that is that the deceased wasn’t the man I spoke with on the phone.”

“I don’t want to believe that is likely.”

“Speaking with someone on the phone is, in a certain sense, and aside from the mechanical interventions, somewhat like speaking to a person in the dark. You hear the voice alone. There is no personality or physical appearance to distract you from your impression of the voice itself. If you heard a voice on the phone, without having seen the speaker, and later you met the speaker in real life, you might not recognize him, because his appearance or his personality might destroy the impression of the voice.”

“What you’re telling me now may jeopardize this investigation. What if the doctor was wrong? What if you actually spoke with him and someone murdered him before I got there? I always disregard medical evidence about the time of death, which is bound to be faulty in short-time diagnoses.”

“The doctor is not wrong, I had another doctor examine the corpse. The man was long dead before you got there. And the voice of the man I spoke with on the phone wasn’t the voice of the murdered man.”

“You can’t be sure about that. Remember, voices on phones can easily be manipulated. You admitted it yourself, sir.”

“Not everyone can easily manipulate their voices like Helen Paul, but I’m not much concerned about the voice but of what the man who picked the phone said.”

“What did he say? You didn’t tell me.”

“The first thing the man who spoke with me on phone said was that it was nice hearing my voice again. He said those words as though he knew me.”

"Of course, the deceased might know you. Quite a popular detective you are. In fact, we have no other detective in this country who can match you in wits.”

Lot’s reaction to the compliment was nil. He said, “That statement the man made was contrary to line 16 of the note.”

Daniel picked up the copied text of the note, counted sixteen lines, read the words thereon and sighed, “I’m not following your train of thought, sir.”

“ ‘I shall be waiting to cite the quote’,” Lot quoted, “That was what the writer of the note wrote. But he didn’t cite any quote.”

Daniel frowned, wondering whether he was supposed to know what his superior was talking about, “Are we still talking about the second corpse? Or are we trying to compose a new stanza for Hare Krishna?”

“Bare your mind, Famous, and you’ll see the flicker of light at the end of the tunnel. What did God give you for a brain—a mixture of pap and garri?”

“God is in the best position to answer that question.”

“Famous last words,” commented Lot and continued, “From that line 16, anybody—except you—could see that the writer of the note was going to tell his recipient—if indeed the reader was able to find the out the phone number—just for his caller to be certain that he was the one, he’d quote out the quote which, according to you, was extracted from Shakespeare.”

Daniel continued staring at Lot incomprehensibly; the detective noticed this and shook his head in pity before continuing.

“Therefore, the first words I said when I spoke with the supposed scribbler of the note was the first line of the quote, expecting him to quote the rest of the lines. But, alas, he didn’t understand why I said those words—he only told me how good it was to finally speak with me.” He looked at Daniel seriously and said, not without slight rudeness, “You now understand what I’ve been trying to tell you, don’t you?”

Daniel still did not get the full significance of the detective’s narration, but he nodded—any otherwise protest, he knew, might invoke the investigator’s ire. He said, “Do you realize what you’re saying though? Not to mince understandings, I think you’re trying to tell me that the man we found there in Sawmill Lane was murdered by the same person who killed Mr. Malik.”

“Yes,” agreed Lot, “That’s the only logical explanation for now.”

“Then who do you think was the person who spoke with you on phone?”

“It could be the murderer. Remember that the deceased already confessed in the note that he was afraid that his life was being threatened. I’m sure you’ve not forgotten about V. The letter may not be of much importance because the murderer might have given his victim any bogus name he could think of., but still, we shouldn’t disregard it.”

“A bogus name which even Mr. Malik might happen to have known? Come one, detective Lot!”

"At least, unlike you, I am using my brain. These crimes weren’t the ones committed at the spur of the moment. They’re well-planned, and the mystery is not expected to be unraveled. But when it comes to crime, no matter how tightly-knitted it is, there always remain one or two loopholes. And I suspect that the party who is committing these crimes is very much experienced. So, coming back to my explanations, the murderer eventually found out about the plan—whatever the plan was—and took the necessary step he could take to prevent the plan from being carried out. And I’ll bet my day’s meals that the preservation of his identity was one of the reasons he killed them.”

“If you so much believe that the person who committed the crime in Sawmill Lane was one of our suspects here then you should give a good explanation of how that could be humanly possible. If you are accusing a man in London of killing a man in New York by shooting an arrow across the Atlantic Ocean, you must produce a plausible explanation of how he was able to do it.”

“The corpse was reported dead before we were able to completely crack the note. There was more than enough chance for the murderer to slip out and commit the deed. The two police officers who should have watched over the household members weren’t around at the time—they were escorting the landlord’s body to the morgue.”

“There’s something very important we seem to be leaving out, what about the playing cards found by the corpse? Do they not mean anything?”

Lot smiled, “I admit, the criminal is quite a clever one—he reminds me of Richard.”

“Richard is not a criminal.” Daniel scowled.

“How many times am I going to tell you that everyone is a criminal? All I’m saying is that this criminal we’re trying to hunt down is almost as clever as Richard Kish. The criminal is committing the crimes and intentionally leaving clues behind.”

“Which criminal would be daft enough to try such?”

“This one believes so much in his own ingenuity; he was leaving clues behind but was very certain that he would never be caught. These clues, however, may lead us in wrong directions, thereby leaving him free and wide. We must be very careful.”

“Are you saying we shouldn’t find out why those cards were left there?”

"You can’t expect me to easily pull a rabbit out of a hat at will, but take your mind back to the night of the first murder. When you checked the corpse the first time there was nothing on him, but when I arrived I found about it a half-burnt note. That note was not burnt accidentally, it was carefully burnt in half. No accidental burn would result in such near-perfect dissection. The criminal wanted us to concentrate our attention on unravelling the content of the note while he tidied up his crime. Now we have another distraction on our hands—the cards.”

‘At least, let’s find out what message lies in this too.”

It was at this time the detective’s phone rang. He picked up the call, listened for a few seconds and thanked the caller before hanging up.

“That was from the morgue,” he told Daniel, “The corpse is having a scar behind his left thigh. It appears to be the scar of a slash, but it has healed smoothly.”

“Then the corpse we found is truly Abel Malik—Ruth’s brother. Mrs. Hannah Malik wasn’t lying after all. This saddens my heart, detective.”

Repteam: Hey Larry where u been?

I'm always around, watching you.

iceberylin: chai 2K to 30k




why dont i have the music talent rather....

uhmmm hw about sex stories

Of all stories to write, sex stories? C'mon!

This surprised Daniel, but the detective seemed unperturbed. “You mean you had a son before David?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he now?”

Hannah spread her hands, “I don’t know. He has vanished with no more trace than any ship that has sailed into but not out of the Bermuda Triangle.”

“You should tell me more than that Hannah. We are talking about your son here.”

“It’s a long story. Telling it would open up old wounds.”

“I’m sorry but you’ll have to tell it; the old wounds may solve the murders.”

She shrugged and began, “Abel was born in 1977, he should be 36 years old by April sixteen. When he was fifteen, he left home to somewhere unknown; he heard from ever since.”

“Why did he leave home?” not asked immediately.

Hannah shook her head, “Why are you asking this, detective?”

“Because I have to know, Hannah. I have to know if that corpse we found was really your son. If what you told me is right, then the corpse we found is about the same age as your Abel. I have to be sure of the corpse’s identity. Everything is connected with your husband death, trust me. So, I will ask again, why did Abel leave home?”

Tears came flowing sown the woman’s cheeks, she did not attempt to wipe them off, and when she spoke, her voice was heavy, “Can you plese tell the third party here to excuse us?”

“Why should I do that?” Lot asked.

“I’m going nowhere!” protested Daniel, “we are investigating this case together, the detective and – I.”

Hannah said, “What I’m going to tell you should be handled in the strictest confidence. If it leaks out, my family may be shattered. I don’t want Daniel hearing about this because of the relationship he has with my granddaughter. But if you, Detective Lot, can give me your word that he’d try to keep his mouth shut, then I’ll tell you.”

Lot cast Daniel Famous a quick glance before speaking, “I give you my word, Hannah.”

The old lady sighed as though she was tired. Then she spoke, ‘Twenty-one years ago, a stranger broke into our home.”

“A burglar?”

“No, the man took nothing. He kept talking about Nemesis.”

“He broke into your house to lecture you about Nemesis? Go straight to the point, Hannah.”

“The man was like a devil – as ugly as a mud fence. I’ve never seen anyone uglier in my life. At first, I thought he was wearing a mask, but he wasn’t. The face scared the daylight out me. I was more afraid of him than the gun he was holding.”

“What did he come to your home for?”

“He came to do us evil. He seemed to have known my husband, because he was talking to him directly’ trying to remind him of something that had happened eight years prior. He kept uttering the word ‘Nemesis”. Everything he was saying carried no meaning with me – his words were no different than those of a madman. He continued speaking, even shouting – he seemed not to care if anyone was listening to him or not. Every word came like thunder and he was waving the pistol in his hand maniacally.”

“Where did that happen? Here in this compound?”

“No, it wasn’t here. We were living in Jos at the time.”

“Continue, I beg of you.”

“No one could speak among us. Even my husband was visibly scared, but his face did not register any knowledge of ever knowing the man.”

“What about your children? Were they with you then?”

“Only Ruth and Abel were with us – David was boarding in a secondary school. Ruth was home for the semester break; she was seventeen years old at the time and was in her first year at Rivers State University. Abel had just concluded his senior secondary school final examination, so he was at home seeking admission.”

“What about your other children?” Lot consulted, “Gabriel and Esther.”

“Gabriel was only four years old at the time and he was asleep in the inner room, and Esther was not yet born.” She was nibbling at her lower lip now.

“Okay, the picture is getting clearer. What happened later on?”

Tears cascaded down her cheeks again, and her lips shook as she narrated, “After the stranger had finished depleting his expletives, he ordered us all into the living room where he extracted a rope from his bag which he gave to Abel to tie my husband and me down to our chairs. He tried to remind Jamal about how he’d done the same thing but his words were senseless.

“After he’d made our son tie us up, he told both Abel and Ruth to undr*ss themselves nak*d.”

“What!” Bellowed Daniel.

“He threatened to shoot them dead in front of us if he was not obeyed. To convince us that he wasn’t joking, he unclipped his pistol and showed us the bullets in the magazine. None of us doubted his insanity. My husband and I began imploring them to obey the madman. His gun was pointed at my children as he made a countdown from ten. He was going to shoot one of them dead if, after the countdown, they weren’t undressed. By the time he counted to one, the kids were stark naked – both in the altogether; ashamed and embarrassed; they were weeping so sadly. Then the devil ordered them to do the most horrifying act – he told them to perform a sexual intercourse with each other, right there in our presence. It was evil!”

“You’re saying that the man who broke into your home ordered your children to sleep with each other?" Lot said.

Hannah broke down and wept like a baby. Lot waited a moment, watching the crying woman before he asked the dreaded question, “Did they?”

He could see the effect of the question as the woman shuddered. It appeared as though she was briefly attacked by epilepsy. She did not give reply to the question.

Lot asked again, “Did they?”

The woman’s words came very loud and sharp, “How could they not?” she screamed, “The man was going to kill them. I watched the horror with my own eyes. Jamal shut his eyes to avoid seeing the horrible act, but I watched it – I watched my children sleep with each other! Do you know how horrible that is? Do you know the curse that comes with such act? Do you know the plague that may afflict such family? No, you don’t, and you can never imagine it because it wasn’t you who had to witness such abomination! You don’t know the gravity of such evil!”

This astounding news did not seem to affect detective Lot in the least. He did not move or even blink. His wonderfully shrewd eyes remained fixed on the widow. He waited silently, he listened to her as she jabbered until she gained control of herself. The woman was near-hysteric. When Hannah had cooled off, he asked, “What happened after that?”

“After the intercourse,” Hannah said exhaustedly, “The monster left us, saying that what happened was enough punishment. He came, destroyed our lives and left – just like that. If I saw the man, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. But of course I’m blind, I may never see him. I pray my children do that justice.”

‘Are your other children aware of this truth?”

“No, they’re not. And I’m begging you both to keep it that way.”

“Was that why Abel left home?”

“After that terrible night, my husband and I decided that it would be good if both children never saw each other for a long time. The next day, we took Abel out of Jos to Benin-City where we rented an apartment for him. But Abel took the unfortunate act worse than us all. After just two weeks, he packed his belongings out of the apartment we rented for him and disappeared. It was as if he never existed. All efforts to find him proved futile – he never showed up, not for once. After five, ten years, we forgot about him. Believing that he’d somehow met with an unfortunate accident and died. We never mentioned his name in the house. Both Gabriel and Esther did not know that they had another older brother, and David believed Abel was dead.”

“Hannah, do you think that the second corpse we found was really your lost son – Abel?”

The lady thought over the question critically, “He could really be. If he really was Abel, it’d break my heart gravely. It would be too much for me to lose a husband and a son within just a week. There were only three of us who really knew about Abel; if it wasn’t my son, then either Ruth or my husband had been playing a dangerous game. You must investigate the case carefully, detective. It may go deeper than meets the eye.”

‘If you hadn’t lost your sight, would you have recognized your son now if you saw him?”

“Which mother wouldn’t recognize her own child?”

“The corpse we found was heavily bearded. The beards could have changed his original facial outlook.”

“Detective, I would recognize my child if I saw him – beard or no beard.”

‘Okay, what about your daughter, Ruth? Would she have recognized him?”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s been over twenty years since the tragic event, the image of her brother might have dulled in her mind. And again, the name might spur some unpleasant remembrance. Honestly, I don’t know if she’ll recognize him or not.”

“I guess we all have to depend on your daughter about the true identity of Abel.”

“There another way you can know if that corpse you found was truly Abel.”

“How?”

“The corpse isn’t buried yet, is it?”

“No, he’s still in the morgue.”

“Good. If the corpse was really my son, it would have a long scar at the back of its left thigh.”

“Are you sure? How is that so?”

“Abel has had the scar since he was six when he fell off a mango tree.”

“Are you sure he still had the scar?”

“Of course, I’m sure. The scar was still there when he was sleeping with his sister.”

“That will go a long way. Thanks a lot, Hannah. I’ll call the morgue and ask them to confirm what you just said.”

“Okay.”

“Was it you or your husband who christened your son Abel?”

“My husband.”

“Why did he name him that?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. He only said he heard the name in a hospital somewhere and decided he was going to name his son Abel if he had one.”

“Before you leave, I’ll like to ask you one final question. Do you know the name of the man who attacked your family?”

“How can I forget the name of the man who came to destroy my family? He spoke his own name when he heard us call our son Abel. He said it was God’s will that he was there with us.”

“What’s his name?”

“He called himself Cain – Cain Martins.”

pweeeetychi: i wouldn't say i'm confused, infact i now understand the story. Hmmmmmmmmm


Mr Larry wouldn't say more than that

Really? You understand the story already? That's fast.